


Heal

by merae2888



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 14:30:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4141335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merae2888/pseuds/merae2888
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She shifted against the tree, trying to get comfortable. She’d sit here with him all night if she had to. </p>
<p>OR</p>
<p>Clarke's hurt and Bellamy takes care of her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heal

A little one-shot that popped into my head and wouldn’t go away. Hope you enjoy!

HEAL

_“Can we figure it out later?”_

_“Whenever you’re ready.”_

 

The night thickened around them with the stench of death. Clarke was sure if she peeked her tongue out, she’d taste blood on the wind. She wanted to be gone, back to the bunker and then on to camp, far away from Dax’s corpse. But the distant haunting in Bellamy’s eyes kept her glued next to him. She shuddered at the idea of leaving him alone, of the possibility of him running off in the night and leaving her behind.

 

She shifted against the tree, trying to get comfortable. She’d sit here with him all night if she had to. She willed her body to relax; hoping her pleading talk with him had convinced him enough to return to camp with her. She hadn’t realized how important he’d become to her, to all of them, before the idea of not having him around had become a possibility.

 

She looked up at his shredded face and thought about her pack down in the bunker. They’d have to get it so she could clean those cuts. She kept her eyes away from Dax’s still figure in the dirt, knowing they’d be burying another body before they went back to camp and they’d gather the guns and whatever other supplies they could carry, and she needed to get back soon to check on Finn. Suddenly, Bellamy’s presence by her side felt like the only keeping her from fainting.

 

Her heart was finally starting to slow down, the adrenaline seeping from her body and leaving a warm buzz in her side. She took a deep breath and cried out in anguish before she even fully registered the pain that flared in her side.

 

“Clarke, what’s wrong?” Bellamy turned toward her, his tired eyes suddenly bright with worry.

 

She sat up a little, biting her lip as she struggled out of her jacket. The faint light from the moon allowed her to see the torn, wet spot on her shirt. She touched it gingerly and her fingers came away tacky with blood. “I think I got hit.”

 

Bellamy cursed low under his breath and gave Dax’s corpse a withering look. “How bad it is?”

 

She tried to turn and lift her shirt but hissed as the movement spurred a fresh course of pain to shoot out across her stomach. Bellamy took over, guiding her hand away and pulling up the shirt himself. He probed the area gently but it still stung and throbbed as fresh blood seeped out and Clarke kept jerking away from his touch when he got too close to the gash. “It doesn’t look deep,” he said uncertainly.

 

“The bullet probably just grazed me. I would’ve felt it sooner if it had gone through.”

 

“What do you need?”

 

She closed her eyes, gripping his fingers tightly for a second when she realized he hadn’t let go. “I need my bag, there’s a small med kit in it and I need something to put pressure on the wound. Stop the bleeding.” Her words stuttered out as she shivered.

 

Bellamy was already stripping off his jacket before Clarke had finished speaking. He helped maneuver her to lie on the forest floor and then ripped off a section from the bottom of his shirt and pressed it into her swollen, aching skin. He pressed her hand into the scrap of cloth before he draped his jacket over her shoulders and tucked it around her. “I’ll be right back.”

 

She watched him jog away and then looked up at the fuzzy stars. “Uh, oh.” She kept her eyes open by sheer force of will as the world around her swirled and tilted. Her head sank into the soft ground beneath her, the cloth on her stomach grew warm and wet from her seeping blood. Her blinking slowed until the darkness engulfed her and she drifted peacefully, feeling like she could sleep for a million years…

 

“Whoa, don’t do that. Wake up, Princess!” She peeled her eyes open and was met by Bellamy’s anxious face. He lifted her off the ground, his fingers digging into her shoulders. “Stay with me. I have no idea what I’m doing here. I need you to walk me through this, doc.” She nodded, her head lolling dangerously. “Shit.” He got behind her and leaned against the tree before dragging her onto his lap, between his legs.  

 

“I feel a little dizzy,” she murmured, tucking her head beneath his chin.

 

“You don’t say.”  He peeled away the makeshift bandage and she winced as the fibers clung to the ragged bits of her skin. “Clean it first, right?”

 

“Right.” She felt him moving around but didn’t really have the strength to lift her head. She allowed herself to zone out, focusing only on the steady rhythm of his chest rising and falling beneath her head. She must have made some pained noise because the next thing she was aware of was Bellamy’s hand cupping her jaw, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheekbone.

 

“You’re alright,” he whispered and then he kissed her hair.

 

It was some ingrained brotherly affection, she was sure, just an impulse to comfort. He cleared his throat after a brief frozen moment and got back to work, leaning over her slightly to see what he was doing. His front pressed into her back, the heat of him flushing through her. It was the blood loss, obviously, but she felt remarkably safe at that moment, with his body surrounding hers, his large calloused hands rasping over her sensitive skin.  

 

He smoothed some gauze over the wound and applied an almost uncomfortable amount of pressure. “I think the bleeding stopped.”

 

She twisted around and saw he was right. The gauze was stark white, with only a tiny line of red in the center. She replaced his hand and sat up, swaying a little until he reached out again to steady her.

 

“Here.” He handed her his canteen and part of an apple. “You’re no use to me if you pass out.”

 

She laughed weakly and bit into the soft fruit. Bellamy kneeled in front of her, wrapping her torso in more strips of his shirt to secure the gauze in place. “You don’t have to-“

 

“It’s done.” He tied it off and ran his hands along the fabric, his fingertips dragging slowly over her ribs. “Does it hurt?”

 

She was staring at the cut on his forehead and his dark, messy curls falling in his eyes, and didn’t hear him at first. “What?”

 

He raised his head and their faces were really, really close. She felt his breath on her mouth. “Does it hurt?” he asked quietly.

 

“No, no it’s…it’s okay. I’m okay.”

 

“Okay.” He smiled a little and there was only a small trace of smugness. She shook her head and tried to stand up, using his shoulder to brace herself. “Easy, what’s the rush?”

 

She huffed. “We’ve left them unsupervised for a whole day. The camp’s probably in ruins by now.”  

 

“Probably.” He helped her, holding her up with his hands wrapping around her elbows. “You good? Want me to carry you?”

 

She rolled her eyes and shrugged away from his arms. He picked her jacket up and held it out to her and her fingers brushed over his when she grabbed it. “Thanks.”

 

“Sure.”

 

Blood loss, bullet wound, extreme fatigue. That must be why she suddenly wanted him to be touching her again, why the stroke of his hand felt more comforting than the familiar warmth of her jacket.

 

“Let’s go.”   

 

“Whatever you say, Princess.”

 

On the walk back to camp, she couldn’t help but notice that he stood a little closer to her than normal.


End file.
